Took a Clonazepam last night to deal with the shooting pains in my arms. Results of drugging:
1. A certain wooziness for most of the morning.
2. Less pain.
3. Weird dreams that I don’t remember.
I sleep the sleep of the soporifically drugged on this med, which is sort of the point, I guess. Matthew frequently comments that I don’t move very often when I’m in this sleep state, and occasionally I talk.
Now I’ve talked in my sleep since I was little, on and off. It’s been a source of amusement for various people who’ve been in my vicinity when I’ve been asleep and who’ve listened to me babble about my strange, apparently psychedelic dreams. They inform me I even have conversations with them where I give every indication of being wide-awake, with my eyes open and everything. The only difference between holding a conversation with an awake me and a sleep talking me is that my responses are often a bit odd, and I have a tendency of closing my eyes and falling into a dead sleep mid-conversation. I, of course, never remember any of it.
Apparently, last night, I opened my eyes, pointed at something ceiling-ward, giggled and said “oh, my” several times. When Matthew came over and asked me what it was I was giggling at, I said, quite mischievously: “It’s best that you don’t know” and flopped back asleep. He was hoping that I’d be able to enlighten him in the morning what I’d been hallucinating, I mean dreaming. Unfortunately, I can’t remember.
What is my subconscious coming up with when my consciousness is doped goofy?